18. Fox
FOX
I’m not even two steps into the hotel lobby before some of Eden’s fans are on me, begging for pictures and pestering me with questions. The thin grasp on my public composure is slipping with each incessant syllable coming from them. One of the women sidles up next to me, her phone held high in her hand for a selfie.
“No pictures,” I demand, but she ignores it. She shifts the angle before her finger goes for the button at the bottom of her phone. I snap before she reaches it. “I said no fucking pictures, lady.”
Her smile falters for a second, surprise flickering in her eyes, but then she shoves the phone in my face instead. “But you’re Ares! The Ares! From Eden’s book! Everyone’s talking about you!” My stomach recoils at that name.
I catch sight of Eden across the lobby. She’s surrounded by a few fans, laughing and posing like she didn’t shove a grenade into my life yesterday with that fucking kiss. The rush of their excitement intensifies the knot in my stomach. I can’t escape this circus. I’m trapped, and she’s got the detonator.
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be part of your fanfare,” I grunt, trying to sidestep the crowd.
One of them grabs my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. “Come on, please!”
Another voice pipes up from behind me. “Tell us about the motorcycle club! Is it true you guys have crazy initiation rituals?”
Her readers' questions are swirling around me like angry bees. The reader with the camera phone tries to snap her photo again. Clearly allowing my request to fall over deaf ears. My hand moves before my brain registers what I am about to do. With a quick movement, I grab her phone and toss it across the lobby. It skids on the opulent marble floor underneath a couch. The room falls silent. Eyes widen, and mouths drop as every fan process what I just did. I can feel the tide of anger from the crowd shifting toward me.
Eden arrives just in time to witness my moment of insanity. Her rainbow hair bounces with her hurried steps, the perfectly curated image of a bestselling author crumbling like dry leaves underfoot as she takes in the scene before her. “Ares! What?—”
“Your fans don’t listen, Eden,” I cut her off. “I told her no pictures.”
“Hey!” The woman whose phone I launched crosses her arms defiantly, her friends behind her whispering and glancing between us like it’s a tennis match.
Eden holds up her hands, a soothing smile plastered on her face that doesn't quite reach her eyes. “Okay, everyone, we’re just going to take a moment here.” She turns sharply to me, the smile faltering slightly as concern flashes across her features. “Let’s take a walk, shall we?”
Eden brushes past me, heading towards the hallway outside the ballroom we were in yesterday for the signing. It’s all but abandoned now except for a smattering of workers clearing away the tables from the space.
“What is your problem? Why did you do that?” she seethes.
“You said no pictures. I told her twice, and she wouldn’t fucking listen, so I solved the problem.”
“You didn’t have to throw her phone.”
“No?” I sneer back, stepping closer now that the audience seems more curious than hostile. “The very detailed contract that your publisher had me sign said in black and white, no pictures. I had every right to protect myself and the club from my face going viral on social media.”
“You could have handled that a better way.”
“Better? Like what, stand here and let them drool all over me to sell a few more of your books?”
“That’s unfair,” she fires back. “You signed on for this. Speaking of which, where the hell were you this morning? You were supposed to be at the brunch session with me. I tried to text you.”
“I was busy.” I try to walk away, but Eden shifts to step in front of me, blocking my exit.
“Busy? You’re getting paid to do a job this weekend. I expected you to fulfill all of your obligations. First, the after party, now brunch. That’s half the events you were required to attend.”
“Take it out of my pay, Eden. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”
“This isn’t about the reader trying to take your picture at all, is it?” She circles around me. “Who were you with last night?” she asks, her voice low and accusatory.
“Cut the shit, Eden. You expect me to believe that Hallie didn’t tell you.”
“Fine,” she answers, throwing her hands in the air. “Hallie told me as soon as she returned from helping you take a stranger to our hotel room. I know you’ve been following the girl like a lost puppy.”
“Is that why you kissed me? Was this weekend some ploy to get me back in your bed?”
“God, no. That kiss was to sell the story. I told you back in Indiana. The only thing I want from you is a story to sell my books. That’s it.”
“Yeah, well, that kiss just ruined my chance with Brea, Eden. Her best friend was in your line yesterday when you did that. She even recorded a video of it. So thanks for that.”
“I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“Well, it did,” I snarl through gritted teeth. “This fucking arrangement of ours, it’s done. Over. No more Ares. No more playing happy family. Your publisher can shove the money up their asses for all I care. I’m fucking done.”
I turn on my heels, not even bothering to look back at Eden as I storm towards the elevators around the corner, my heart pounding with betrayal and anger. Just as my finger hits the elevator button, I hear her voice pierce through my thoughts. “Wait!”
I stop mid-step, fingers trembling above the metal panel, and exhale sharply, wrestling with the storm brewing inside me. The elevator doors glow brightly in front of me as they slide open, revealing a space I suddenly feel too small for. I step inside, putting any distance I can between myself and Eden.
Eden steps closer, her breath hitching. “I’m sorry—really, I am!”
“Tell that to Brea.”
The elevator door slides shut in Eden’s face. I lean against the cold metal wall of the elevator, closing my eyes for the briefest moment. It's a desperate effort to shut out the rage swirling inside of my head. When the doors finally part again on our floor, I step out into the hotel hallway, clenching my fists at my sides. I need a drink. I charge into our room. The door slamming against the wall behind it. Finding the mini bar, I fling it open and down the first bottle I can find. I reach for the second when I feel someone behind me. I glance over to find Az standing in the open doorway.
“Care to explain to me why Eden just burst into our room in tears? What the fuck did you do now, asshole?”
I don’t even bother to mask the irritation in my voice. “You can ask her if you want the full story.”
Azrael steps inside, closing the door behind him before crossing his arms with an incredulous look on his face.
“This is about that woman.”
“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock.”
“If things went south with her, that’s on you, Fox. Not Eden.” Azrael shakes his head, frustration creasing his features. “You need to apologize to her.”
“Fuck that, Az. You strong armed me into this mess so the blame is on you, too. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to fucking come back to Texas to this signing. I sure as fuck didn’t want to play fake boyfriend to Eden.”
“I didn’t force you to do a god damn thing.”
“Bullshit,” I roar. “You wanted to make Hallie happy by forcing me to help out her little author bestie. You didn’t once think for a fucking second about what I wanted to do. Tell me, Az. If I said no, would you have accepted that?”
Az grows quiet.
“Case and fucking point. So, no, I will not be apologizing to Eden or to her grabby fans.”
“No, you need to do it now.” His tone brooks no argument, and I can see the protective edge of a club president rising within him. It’s not just the MC mentality, it’s the older brother instinct.
“I said no.”
“Look, you’re not thinking straight. This girl has you so bent out of shape that you’re not seeing reason.”
“I am seeing things very clearly for the first time in my life.”
“You’re seeing what you want to see. You’re blinded by anger, man.” Azrael leans against the doorframe, studying me with an intensity that makes my skin itch. “That’s not who you are. I don’t know what happened with that girl, but maybe it’s for the best, man. We’re leaving to go back home tomorrow. Just leave that shit here in Texas and move on from it.”
“I’m not leaving tomorrow.”
Azrael raises an eyebrow, incredulity etching deeper into his face. “What the hell do you mean you’re not leaving?”
“I’m staying.” My voice is steady, strong.
Azrael's gaze flickers with concern, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he processes my words. “This isn’t some game, Fox. You have a life, responsibilities, a club that relies on you.”
“Yeah? And what if I want to chase something that feels real for once?” My voice echoes back at me, raw and fierce.
“Real?” Az raises an eyebrow again, incredulous. “You’ve known her for what forty-eight hours? Just fuck her already and get it out of your system.”
“Easy for you to say,” I scoff, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “You found your ‘real’ with Hallie. You wake up next to someone who makes your heart race and keeps your world spinning. But I’m not like you, Az.”
Azrael steps closer, his eyebrows knitting together. “What are you saying? That this girl is it for you?”
“You’re one to cast rocks at glass houses, considering how you met Hallie,” I fire back at him. “Look, it may not make sense to you, but I’m staying even if she’s done with me. I have to try.”
Azrael’s face hardens, and I can see the inner conflict playing out behind his cool exterior. He’s not the kind of guy to back down easily, and right now, I’m giving him a real reason to dig in his heels. “You don’t even know her, Fox. She could be the biggest mistake of your life.”
“Maybe,” I reply, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest. “But it’s a mistake I need to make. I can’t just return to Lafayette pretending none of this ever happened. You think I’m scared of commitment? No… I’m scared of regret.”
“Regret?” Azrael scoffs, his disbelief palpable. “What do you know about real regret? You’ve lived your life without looking back.”
“Yeah, well, that was before!” The words escape my lips sharper than intended, but they hang in the air between us like smoke from a dying flame. “Before I met her.”
He studies me, eyes narrowing like he’s trying to uncover some hidden truth lurking beneath the surface. “And what makes you think she feels the same? Hell, what makes you think she’ll even give you a second chance?”
“I don’t know!” I shout, frustration spilling over into anger as I shove the minibar door closed with an echoing bang. “But staying here gives me a shot at finding out. It’s better than running away with my tail tucked between my legs like some fucking coward. You taught me that much.”
Azrael sighs heavily. “You know this isn’t just about you, right? Every choice you make ripples through the club. It could affect us all.” His voice drops to a lower tone, one laced with worry, “I don’t want to see you get hurt or god forbid drag us into something messy.”
“Did you think about that when you dragged Hallie into a turf war with The Hellions in Mexico or were you just thinking with your dick? Seems to me you didn’t follow the advice you’re trying to give me now either.”
Azrael opens his mouth as if to respond, but he pauses. “Fine,” he finally concedes, his voice quiet and measured. “But if you fall flat on your face over this...”
I interrupt, the fire still burning bright in my chest. “I’ll own whatever happens next.”
“Just be careful,” he murmurs finally, the softness in his tone catching me off guard.
With a resigned nod, Azrael walks toward the door and pauses with his hand on the knob.
“Don’t let her break you, and for fuck’s sake, apologize to Eden.”
“I told you I will.”
“See that you do.” With a determined expression, he pushes open the door and strides out into the dimly lit hallway. I stand awkwardly in the doorway, my mind buzzing with thoughts of Brea and what could happen between us. My usual confidence falters as I realize I have no control over this situation. As I wait for her call, I know I need to find my own space before anything can happen between us.
The last thing I want is to be stuck in a shared room with Eden if Brea does show up. I’m not sure I’d survive it.